


take back the day

by lastdream



Series: you and you and me (omegaverse ot3) [1]
Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Comeplay, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Knotting, M/M, Marathon Sex, Overstimulation, Threesome - M/M/M, imperfect sex, reference to oral knotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6439546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastdream/pseuds/lastdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't start as a very good birthday, but Steve's mates are determined to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take back the day

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanted to write some ot3 pwp... this is not quite that, but I hope you'll enjoy the results nonetheless ;)
> 
> Any attempts to fit this into either 616 or the MCU will probably fail, I've been reading a lot of both lately so this is kind of a mishmash of all of my knowledge and headcanons about these characters. Oh well, it's mostly sex anyway :P Also fluff, because these boys deserve it.

The last words of Steve's statement are followed by a deluge of sound, dozens of reporters trying to cram one more question into the last few seconds Steve is willing to stand in front of the press conference. Steve has been refraining from complaining out loud, but there’s really only so long that he wants to deal with the media on his _birthday_. National holiday it may be, but he has plans with his mates and he’ll be damned if he’ll let the barracudas get in the way of that.

All the same, it is the national media, who tend to get touchy if you insult them outright. Steve demurs as politely but firmly as he can, and then he leaves. He's down to the dregs of his patience. Once he’s in the back of the car waiting for him, he takes several long, deep breaths.

“You did really well,” Pepper says, startling him. He’d been so focused on his breathing that he hadn’t registered that she was already in the back seat when he climbed in.

“Thanks,” he says, managing to flash a small smile in her direction. He fiddles uncomfortably with the scent-dampening cuffs of his dress shirt. “Do you mind?” She shakes her head in a dismissive no, _of course I don’t mind_ , and he unbuttons them and pushes them up his arms with relief. His scent is thick and frustrated but it dissipates quickly as he relaxes into his seat, and Pepper's nose wrinkles only once before she's all politeness again.

She manages his public appearances for him, and he’s starting to think that he, like Tony, wouldn’t be able to tie his shoes without her. About ninety percent of the things he wants to say mean something completely different in the future, and she is a master of all of them.

“I mean it,” Pepper adds, smiling back at him. “You kept your cool very well. Especially considering how cruel it was to make you do this circus on your birthday.”

“Well,” Steve says, “I had something to look forward to, after.”

“Speaking of—“ she begins, but then she cuts herself off. Steve raises an eyebrow, and Pepper bites her lip just a little, considering something. “I’m not supposed to give anything away, I wasn’t even supposed to know too much to begin with, but… I think the boys have something really special for you, Captain.”

“I’ll bet, they started getting sneaky weeks ago,” Steve says, coloring slightly, and Pepper smiles. They pull up at the Tower, then, and Pepper and Happy both wish him a happy birthday as he climbs out of the car. He’s not sure where it is they drive off to— he doesn’t know whether they live in the Tower, or whether they have an apartment, or what— but he supposes this is kind of like a vacation for them. Three of the main instigators of their superhero-related problems will be happily wrapped up in each other for the foreseeable future.

That thought makes Steve shiver, just a little, thinking fleetingly of the _last_ time he was wrapped up in his mates. God, he loves them both.

The press conference’s stress falls off him by degrees the longer he’s in the private areas of the Tower, in his home that smells only of himself and his mates and his team. He gets in the elevator and presses the button for his floor, but to his surprise, the elevator begins to go down, not up.

“Jarvis?” he asks. He still looks at the ceiling as he says it, even though he’s been trying to break that habit. Jarvis doesn’t actually live in the ceiling, no matter how cute Tony finds that notion.

“The Super Special Birthday Bash Extravaganza begins in the workshop sub-basement,” Jarvis informs him in flat, nonplussed tones. Steve gapes for a second, and then tries not to burst into childish giggling.

“He told you to say it like that, didn’t he?”

“Sir may have intimated instructions to that effect,” Jarvis replies. His voice sounds like an amused man making a concerted effort to sound dignified, and Steve rolls his eyes. Jarvis takes almost as much pleasure as Steve’s mates do in flustering him, even though— or perhaps especially— because he doesn’t have all the same tools to do so at his disposal.

“I don’t suppose you could tell me what’s going on in the workshop right now?” Steve says. It isn’t really a question.

“I have been expressly forbidden from doing so,” Jarvis says anyway. “However, based on previously collected data, I predict an extremely high likelihood that you will enjoy the proceedings.”

“Of course,” Steve says. Even if he didn’t _know_ his mates, didn’t know that they were putting lots of work into giving him the best birthday they could, he knows that he’d be happy with anything they did for him. _It’s the thought that counts_ , he had told them once, perfectly serious, and Bucky had laughed delightedly while Tony had spluttered and stared, not used to that kind of sincerity from anyone. _I’m still going to get you something amazing_ , Tony had tried to insist, whereupon Steve had quickly and firmly instituted a price limit. Tony might have deep pockets, but Steve didn’t want him buying the hundred-thousand-dollar presents Pepper had told him about once.

“Your floor, Master Rogers,” Jarvis says softly, interrupting his thoughts. Steve looks up from where he’d been staring into space just in time for the doors to open smoothly.

“Thanks, Jarvis,” he answers. The workshop itself is in blackout mode, and Steve knocks as he steps up to the door. It opens on its own after a second, making Steve wonder where his mates are. Usually, if he’s expected, either or both of them will race to the door to claim the first welcome-home kiss. It doesn’t take long for him to realize why, though. Bucky and Tony, it seems, have started without him.

Tony is sitting on one of the desks, back arched beautifully and arms wrapped tightly around Bucky, who’s standing in front of him. Bucky’s just the right height to grind into Tony while they kiss, moving roughly and pulling sweet sounds from Tony’s throat. As Steve watches, Bucky’s metal hand moves from its place between Tony’s shoulder blades and runs down his side, and then tightens sharply on his hip.

“Oh, _Bucky._ Come on, keep going,” Tony sighs into the pressure on that sensitive spot; a spot where, Steve is fairly sure, there’s still a bruise from Steve’s own mouth. Steve feels a ripple of possessive pleasure and a twitch somewhere deep inside him as he starts to slick.

“Yeah, you like that?” Bucky says darkly, moving his head down to press hard kisses under Tony’s ear. “Like it when your own damn tech knows what gets you hot?”

“Like it—“ Tony gasps, “Like it when my own damn mate knows what gets me hot,” he corrects. He rolls his hips as best he can, but he can’t get much leverage sitting on the desk with his feet in the air and he whines impatiently. “ _Please_.”

At Tony’s plea, breathed into Bucky’s hair as he shudders against him, Steve can’t stay quiet anymore. “That what this is, then?” he asks, “My mates knowing what I like to see? Or did you two just get bored waiting for me to show up?”

“Steve!” they say at once, whipping their dark heads around to look at him. The effect is almost comical, except for the way Bucky’s still rocking into Tony like he can’t help himself. Well, Steve knows that feeling. Tony’s body feels so _good_ against his that sometimes it’s a real effort to stop moving against him, even when he knows that Tony’s done and rapidly moving into oversensitive territory.

“Oh, the first one, definitely,” Bucky breathes, trying to still his own hips and largely failing.

“We just got a little carried away,” Tony finishes. He hops down from the desk as Bucky moves back, and now that they’re both facing him, Steve can see that they’re flushed and breathing hard from exertion. Steve suddenly wishes he’d arrived five or ten minutes earlier, if only to see the two of them getting _carried away_ with each other.

“Are we starting with the sex then?” Steve wonders. It seems like a bad idea given how all of them tend to clock right out after sex, but he has no way of knowing what the two of them have planned.

“Goodness no, what do you take me for?” Tony says, clearly trying to sound prissy but losing the act entirely when Bucky gropes him halfway through. Tony has to blink hard to refocus his vision.

“Presents first,” Bucky says, looking delighted with himself. “C’mere.”

Steve walks forward, holding Bucky’s gaze and trying to ignore the way he’s already nearly breathless with anticipation. He’s always been weak to that look of hot-eyed desire, and Bucky’s definitely not holding back now. It’s the kind of look that could get— and one memorable time, _had gotten_ — Bucky arrested for public indecency, even though he’d charmed his way out of it a few seconds later.

Time seems to slip; one second Steve’s across the workshop, and the next they’re chest to chest, holding each other tightly. Their eye contact is so intense that Steve almost doesn’t want to break it, even to kiss him. If there was ever a master of the _speaking look_ , it’s this man, and his look is saying _you’re everything to me_ and also _I can’t wait to have you_. Steve’s pretty sure his own face is saying the same thing as the moment stretches endless between them.

Then the tension snaps and their mouths collide, already open and wet, Bucky’s lips swollen where Tony had bitten them. Bucky always loves biting. Steve melts and falls into it, and Bucky’s strength holds him up.

Their lips slide together gracelessly until Bucky pushes his clever tongue into Steve’s mouth, and Steve sucks on it urgently. He slants his head to get closer, twisting his own tongue with Bucky’s, and shudders at Bucky’s low groan. Steve makes an answering sound when the metal fingers dig into the meat of his shoulder and he tries to press closer. At last they have to pull back to let Bucky breathe, and Steve whimpers with disappointment.

“Are you sure we’re not starting with the sex?” he pants. They’re still breathing hotly into each others’ mouths.

“Well, doll—“ Bucky starts, mouth curving up in the beginnings of a wicked smirk.

“Nope, answer’s still no,” Tony interjects. His pupils are blown _wide_ , though, and he sounds more than a little reluctant. “I have a thing for you.”

“Well that’s good, seeing as we’re mated,” Steve says. He’s going for wry with his tone, but he’s pretty sure the just-kissed expression ruins it.

“That right there, that's adorable,” Tony says with a fond little smile, “That’s why I love you. However they try to make you Captain America out there, you always come back Steve Rogers. You go out and you show the world what it’s supposed to be and you _change_ it and make it better, and then you come home you make us— make _me_ better too.” There’s a long pause while Tony swallows hard, and then he laughs at himself nervously. “And you're kind of an asshole.”

Steve’s fingers are unwilling to release Bucky, but the feeling is swept away in the happiness of taking Tony in his arms. He looks down at Tony, giving him the same look of intense longing he and Bucky had shared. Tony can only meet his eyes for a moment, though, before looking around a little and chuckling nervously again. Tony’s good at making declarations, but he can still be very uncomfortable with his own emotions. Steve’s heart does a painful little flip.

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling Tony closer to him. “I love you too, you know. Always. You’re my mate.”

“Yeah.” Tony sighs a little, lets himself fall further into Steve’s grip. His head tucks into Steve’s shoulder and just breathes in the scent of him for a minute. “All yours, honey,” he says, pressing the words into the skin at Steve’s throat.

“We _are_ yours, Steve, you gotta know that.” Steve’s not sure when it happened, but Bucky got right up close to them and now he’s folding himself against Steve’s back, resting his forehead on Steve’s spine and reaching around him to hold onto Tony’s waist. “Whatever you say about it, I ain’t a good man anymore, if I ever was really. But _you_ — Tony’s right, y’know. You make us better people every minute you’re with us. We love you.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” Steve says seriously. “You two are the best friends I’ve ever had, the best men I’ve ever known. And I love you more than I can say.”

“Happy birthday, Steve,” Tony says, and he sounds like there’s a lump in his throat.

The hug goes on for a long while before Bucky nudges Tony’s side pointedly, clearing his throat. “About that thing you had for Steve,” he prompts.

“Right, yes, that,” Tony says, pulling abruptly out of the embrace. He looks like he doesn’t want to go, though, and Steve counts it as a win. “So, you put a cap on the amount of money I was allowed to spend for you…”

“I did,” Steve says, frowning. He guesses Tony’s found some loophole that lets him get out of the restriction— well, the man didn’t run a successful multibillion-dollar corporation for nothing, Steve supposed. He had to pick up letter-of-the-law tricks at some point.

“So, technically, I didn’t spend any money at all.” Tony rubs at the back of his neck for a moment before tucking his hands behind his back where they’ll behave themselves. He’s definitely weaseled out of _something_ here, that much is obvious. “I may have bartered with the former owner of your present, put up some, ah, personal technology. Phone, laptop, tablet, that kind of thing. Or, you know, all of the above.” He pauses, winces a little. “Of the generation SI hasn’t, strictly speaking, released yet.”

“Christ, Tony, how much is this thing worth?”

“More to you than it was to her,” Tony answers firmly. “I would have given more than I did, but she was a very kind woman.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve concedes. If nothing else, the present is obviously very important to Tony. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you give me.”

“I sure hope so, or else this’ll be embarrassing. Uh, here.” There’s some rapid, nervous rummaging in one of the desk drawers, and then Tony holds out a small box, wrapped unevenly with paper patterned after the Butterfingers candy bar, which Steve is kind of surprised exists, and a large, crooked bow that speaks more of enthusiasm than skill. “Dummy tried to help with the ribbon, I’m sorry, I really should’ve redone it before you got here but then Bucky came down and… yeah. You know the rest.”

Steve flashes Bucky a grateful look as he takes the box from Tony’s hands; Bucky’s gotten enviably good at knowing when Tony needs to be taken out of his own head for a while.

Carefully, more carefully than the messy trappings probably warrant, Steve strips the ribbons and paper from the box. The box itself is cardboard, plain white, a stock container that someone— probably You, who figured out online ordering last month and went a little crazy— has covered with superhero stickers. The wrapping makes it feel like it’s a present from Tony’s bots— his _kids_ — as much as from him. That thought makes Steve's smile go almost watery as he slides his fingers around the lid to dislodge the adhesive there, and when he finally lifts off the top of the box—

What’s inside takes his breath away.

It’s strange to see it looking so old, and it’s a little battered, a little stained, but it takes Steve less than a second to recognize it. This is his old sketchbook, the one he took with him when he left Brooklyn for the last time and the one he carried with him onto the battlefield, the one he left in his quarters with the SSR before he went into the ice. The one that someone must have found, and sold, and maybe sold again, until finally Tony bought it back for him with the work of his own two hands. This is his past, but it means so much more than that, now.

“Who— who had it?” he asks, his voice a little small as he runs his fingers over the cover for the first time in seventy years.

“Old lady I used to know from society circles, I met her ages back, and she mentioned once that she had some stuff of yours. I thought of it and I thought you might like it, so I— ah, you do, right? Like it?”

“Of course, Tony,” Steve says without hesitating. “This is amazing. I used to think I lost everything coming here, and maybe I did, but Tony— it’s not gone, not like I was afraid of… it just needs to be found again. You’ve helped me find my feet here more than anyone. You’re amazing, beloved. Thank you.”

Tony’s smile starts tentative, but it grows wider and wider as Steve keeps talking until it’s lighting up his whole face. He’s always had a beautiful smile, but this smile, honest and loving and only a little self-conscious, might be Steve’s favorite yet. He can’t help but lean in and bring their lips together, and Tony’s response is sweet and enthusiastic and Steve just keeps kissing him and kissing him until they’re forced to break apart. Tony’s chest is heaving like he ran a mile, but his hands, migrated to Steve’s biceps, are holding on as tightly as ever.

“You’re welcome,” Tony manages. His eyes are unfocused.

Bucky’s snuck up to them, _again_ , and he steals a kiss from Tony’s slack mouth before clamping metal fingers on the base of Steve’s neck. The grip puts his hand just over the bonding mark, but he’s not _quite_ touching it; a shiver runs down Steve’s spine at the tease.

“My turn,” Bucky says, turning to steer Steve towards the elevator. His other arm catches Tony around the waist and drags him with them, and Bucky leads with a firm grip on them both. “I only got the one fancy robot arm to wrap your present with, so it’s upstairs.”

It’s not actually a long elevator ride from the sub-basement to the penthouse— Tony’s impatience made sure of that pretty early on in the designing process— but it feels like it takes ages. Trapped in a small, enclosed space with only his two beautiful mates and their rich, wanting scents for company, it’s getting progressively harder for Steve to remember why they’re not moving immediately onto the sex portion of the evening. His body certainly can’t understand the hold up; he’s starting to get open and slick inside, _ready_ in a way that makes him feel hot and wrong-footed.

Bucky certainly isn’t helping, taunting him every few seconds with a squeeze to the nape of his neck, but from his uncomfortable shifting the tease is none too insignificant for Bucky, either. The scent of arousal gets steadily thicker until suddenly the elevator door slides open, letting in a draft of air that feels cool and oceanic by comparison.

“Oh, God,” Bucky groans, turning his face into Steve’s shoulder for a second, like he’s trying to hold onto the close, heady air even as it slips away to disperse in the penthouse.

“Patience,” Steve says innocently, as though he wasn’t just considering jumping his mates in the elevator and riding them until he couldn’t come anymore. Tony snorts and wriggles out of Bucky’s grip to come around to Steve’s other side, so that the two of them bracket him as they leave the elevator. It feels good, right, being between them like this.

Steve sees his second present as soon as they move into the kitchen. It’s sitting on the table, a neatly wrapped box which is, if Steve’s any judge, exactly the same size as the one Tony had given him. The paper is blue and the ribbon is red and white striped, so clearly Bucky thinks he’s being funny.

“Now, before you open this, I gotta remind you that I ain’t got a billion dollars sitting around collecting dust,” Bucky drawls, but it sounds too serious. Steve kind of wishes he didn’t make his mates as nervous as he did.

“Excuse me!” says Tony, mock-affronted with a hand to his heart, “It’s _several_ billion dollars, if you please!”

“My mistake.” Bucky’s lips are twitching at the corners.

“Well, I’m afraid my standards have risen since the forties, Buck,” Steve says, with playful moroseness. “I only mate billionaires now, haven’t you heard?” Bucky swings around to Steve’s front, eyes positively wicked.

“I’m sure I can make up for it somehow,” he says. His voice has dropped low enough that Steve can feel it in his chest. Then he retreats abruptly, leaving a line of shockingly cold air along Steve’s body. “Presents first, we agreed.”

“Hey, you two are the ones who keep distracting me,” Steve says, put-upon. His mates both give him a look like they don’t believe him for a second. “Well, mostly,” he concedes.

Bucky hands him the present, and Steve takes just as much care in unwrapping it, even though this paper clearly doesn’t mean the same thing as it did on Tony’s present. Inside is the same white box, sans stickers this time. Steve opens it, and finds nearly the exact same present inside.

He stands there looking at it in confusion for a moment before the differences register. This sketchbook looks exactly the same, except for the way it’s clean and intact and— Steve flips a few pages to check— completely unused. Brand new. He lifts the sketchbook, and underneath is a set of charcoals and another of oil pastels, just ready to fill the pages however Steve desires. It’s beautiful, and after a moment, Steve gets it.

This present, this unused, blank sketchbook, is his future. Everything he hasn’t yet done or discovered can go down in this book, so like the old one and yet so different. The backs of Steve’s eyes feel hot and prickly. His mates have given him, in the simplest, most beautiful way possible, the closure and connection he’s been looking for here in this new world.

“Thank you,” he says hoarsely. "Bucky, this is amazing. _You're_ amazing." He puts an arm around each of them and tugs them in against him, reveling in the heat of their bodies and the richness of their commingled scent. These are his alphas, the men he loves, the scent tells him. This is home. He’s sure they can smell the happiness and joy rolling off him in waves as he holds them still tighter.

“Time for Operation: Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen?” Tony asks, putting his own arms around Bucky and Steve to complete the circle.

“That’s _still_ a terrible name, love,” says Bucky, rolling his eyes fondly.

“It’s apt! Just because _you_ —“ Whatever Tony had been going to say is cut off when Steve presses their lips together, moving in tandem easily for a moment before coaxing Tony’s mouth open. The slide of their tongues makes Tony shiver.

Then Bucky’s face nudges at theirs and they turn to make space for him, opening their mouths just a little wider to admit his. For the first few seconds Tony’s moniker _is_ apt, and none of them seem quite sure where their lips and tongues should be at any given time, but then they click like they always have in everything else, and suddenly it’s _amazing_. It’s this kind of kiss, awkward at first but then steady and glorious, that solidifies their relationship in a way nothing else can. Steve can mate both of them, and they can mate each other, but _here_ … here, this is all three of them at once, everyone on equal footing and nobody left out.

The scent that was tantalizing in the elevator is so overwhelming here, so close when he’s sharing breath with both of his mates, that Steve can only moan and tremble and clutch both of them tighter against him. Their bodies feel hot and firm and strong. He’s slicking for real, now; any second he’s going to be able to feel it sliding between his cheeks, a dirty promise of so much more.

They’re interrupted by Steve’s stomach, growling to remind him that he hasn’t eaten since lunchtime. Tony breaks off first, laughing and panting, and Bucky follows a second later, but they don’t go far.

“We made dinner,” Tony says, dragging the both of them to the table after him.

“We _bought_ dinner,” Bucky corrects.

“Same difference,” says Tony. He disappears back to the kitchen for a second, and then he’s back with salad and a truly enormous pot of carbonara from Steve’s favorite Italian restaurant. It’s not Steve’s absolute _favorite_ thing they make there, but he can eat enough of it to fill even his stomach without getting bored of the taste. When you’re just trying to eat quickly so you can get to the rest of the evening without hunger pains, that kind of makes it the perfect dish, Steve supposes.

Tony dishes up the food and starts eating last, but he still finishes first. He sits back and watches with vague amusement as Steve and Bucky continue to shovel in truly embarrassing quantities of pasta.

Bucky finishes next, and he and Tony amuse themselves with some kissing and heavy petting. Steve grunts in frustration; Bucky’s lips quirk slightly before returning enthusiastically to Tony’s. So this is a deliberate tease. Steve still has more to eat— damn his insane metabolism— but that doesn’t mean he can’t get back at them. Without setting down his fork, he rubs hard at his wrist with his other hand, and then reaches up to stroke and scratch behind his ear.

It takes a second for the scent to waft over to Steve’s mates, but he can tell the second it does by their identical surprised groans. They stop kissing and pant for a moment, trying to adjust to the sudden influx of their omega’s pheromones. Steve smirks into his next bite.

“You dirty cheater,” gasps Bucky. Tony nods in fervent agreement.

“Strategist,” Steve counters. He bolts down two more large bites and then pushes back his plate. He’s full, or as near to it as he gets nowadays, and more than a little eager to peel his mates out of their clothes. “I’m assuming you two made a plan for the rest of the evening?”

“You said it yourself, doll…” Bucky begins, looking at him through lowered lashes.

“You’re the strategist,” Tony finishes. “ _And_ the birthday boy. Whatever you want, you got it, honey. It’s your show.”

Steve scratches his head, bites his lip, and generally makes a show of thinking over his options. Something hot thrills through him when his mates’ eyes snap to his reddened lip and tousled hair. Being wanted feels _good_. He drags out the moment a little longer, but really, he knew what he wanted before they even asked. The thought of _getting_ it makes his mouth go dry.

“Well.” His voice catches, and he clears his throat to try again. “If I get _whatever_ I want, then I guess I want to find someplace comfortable to lie down, and then I want to take both your knots in a row. Sound okay to you?”

“Okay?” Tony croaks. “I think we’re a little past okay, honey.”

“On a scale of one to ten, we’re at _hell yes_ ,” Bucky confirms.

“Race you,” Steve says, and he bolts for the bedroom. This is immaturity at its finest; only teenagers and new-mated couples chase each other, needing the rush of the chase to establish the initial bonds. Steve loves it, though. Only Bucky has a chance of catching him if he _really_ tries to run away, but that’s not what this is about. For him it’s that hot shivery feeling of being _wanted_ all over again, cranked up to maximum by literal pursuit. For them, he knows, it’s about the effort they put into catching up with him, and the sheer delight when Steve finally surrenders to them.

And neither of them will admit it, but knowing that Steve has voluntarily given himself up to them brings its own heady feeling of being _deserving_. God knows there’s not a lot Steve wouldn’t do to make his mates feel that way.

Steve slows his gait calculatedly as he approaches the bedroom, timing it so that they can catch him right against the bed. Bucky reaches him first and tackles him into the mattress, where they tumble over each other for a few seconds of playful fighting. Then Steve lets himself go slack, and Bucky pins him by the shoulders with a wild grin.

Tony’s only a second behind, and Bucky pulls off to one side to let him throw his whole body across Steve. He scrambles upwards into a more-or-less sitting position, straddling Steve’s waist. A very familiar bulge is making itself known against Steve’s stomach.

“I’m going first, genius,” says Bucky.

“’Course,” Tony says easily. “That’s why I get to strip him. You get your own clothes off.”

Bucky pouts but gamely stands up and strips efficiently, folding his clothes onto a chair. Tony, who has long since perfected the art of stripping people in bed without standing up, hands him articles of clothing every few seconds to add to the pile. In a show of remarkable patience, he doesn’t kiss Steve until they’re all completely bare. Instead, he just sits back and stares at Steve, cock starting to bead with fluid as it rubs against firm abdominal muscles.

Well, Steve can’t let that stand. He grabs Tony by the shoulders and yanks him down into a fierce, almost violent kiss. He feels too-hot and desperate, and he needs one of them in him _yesterday_.

“Come on, please?” he asks, half into Tony’s mouth. Tony’s reply is a sharp, startled sound of pleasure that makes Steve draw back to look. Behind him, holding himself up off Steve, Bucky has put his mouth to work on the bonding mark on the back of Tony’s neck.

“Alright, love,” says Bucky soothingly, “You can wait a few minutes, right? You can do that for us? Just a few minutes while I get Steve knotted and then he’ll let you at him, you got that baby?”

Tony gives a little whimpering noise, but he lets himself be manhandled out of his spot. Bucky lays him next to Steve, head on his shoulder and hips angled away to keep the tease to the minimum. It won’t be fun for _anyone_ if Tony pops a loose knot before he can get inside. Steve wraps an arm tightly around his shoulders.

“You ready for me?” asks Bucky, to Steve this time.

“Been ready since I saw you two in the workshop, Buck,” Steve says. It is both honest and a little desperate.

“Yeah, I though so,” Bucky says smugly. He kisses Tony sweetly, then Steve, and then grabs one of the pillows and moves down the bed. It’s the work of a moment to get the pillow wedged under Steve’s hips, keeping him comfortable but propped at a good angle. Bucky, like Tony, takes a minute just to look at him once they’re in position. “You’re so gorgeous, doll.”

Steve colors a little but doesn’t answer, and Bucky shakes his head fondly. Two warm hands, flesh and metal, come down to rest on Steve’s ankles. They trail appreciatively up his calves and grip tighter at his knees, pressing him wide open against the bed.

Like this, Steve feels awkward and exposed; he’s never really gotten over how his body can just _do this_ now. His hips can stretch without burning, his cock can get fully hard against his belly— he can even produce the thin, clear omega ejaculate he never had before the serum. One thing hasn’t changed, though. With his legs spread like this, the feeling of air on his slick hole is making the flush go further down his chest by the second.

“So pretty,” Bucky sighs as he moves between Steve’s legs. Steve isn’t sure what to say, so he just stays still, hoping Bucky will get inside him soon, hot and thick and the best feeling _ever_ , except for maybe Tony who feels like nothing else on earth—

“You have to know that he’s right, honey,” Tony says into his pectoral. “Everything about you deserves to be appreciated. I’d write you sonnets if I knew what they were. As it is—“

“You’ll just make body armor that loves his curves almost as much as you do,” Bucky finishes.

“Mm, yeah,” Tony says. His fingers skim the curvature Steve’s pectoral muscles pointedly and tease his nipples into tight little peaks. He keeps playing with them until Steve gasps and arches into the touch, needing more. They’re both so close, Tony next to him and Bucky over him, but neither one of them is touching him where he _needs_ it. He’s so slick he’ll be dripping on the sheets soon.

“C’mon,” Steve complains. Words are hard. “Thought I was s’posta get whatever I wanted.”

“Aw, Stevie,” Bucky smirks. “Don’t tell me you can’t take a little teasing. I thought you liked that kind of thing.”

“Would, if you two weren’t—“ _driving me insane_ , he means to say, but the rest is lost in a gasp as Bucky’s hand finally, finally, plunges down between his legs. He arches into the perfunctory stroke to his cock, and then _oh God_ , those are Bucky’s fingers inside him, solid and knowing and— and— Steve’s eyes roll back as his hips jerk upwards, straining to get those perfect fingers deeper inside him.

“There you go, baby. We got you.”

“Please,” is all Steve can say, all he _wants_ to say, and why isn’t his mate inside him yet? Doesn’t Bucky want to knot him?

“His heart’s racing, Bucky, I think maybe we dragged it out a little long.”

“You okay, doll? Shh, relax, we got you. We got you.”

Steve whimpers as Bucky’s fingers pull out of him, and again as his hands smooth up his sides. His skin feels prickly and sensitive all over, and he _needs_ so badly—

He feels a blunt pressure at his hole and his whole body tenses up in anticipation. _Yes, this,_ he thinks nonsensically. His body feels like too much, his mind feels like it’s spiraling off, and the two are only tethered together by the feeling of a cockhead at his hole and a mouth sucking marks into his chest.

“ _There_ you go, ah— you gotta relax, baby, God you’re so tight, doll, Stevie—“ Bucky’s words drift hazily across Steve’s mind. All he can think about is the perfect stretch inside of him. It feels like he hasn’t had anything inside him for _weeks_ , can it be only last night that his mates last tied him? Then Bucky starts to move, and Steve is reduced to _good yes now more_. His muscles are tense and shaking with pleasure and intensity.

“He’s so good to you, huh, Steve,” Tony is saying. His voice his low and raspy in Steve’s ear and his hands are running over Steve’s flushed skin. “He loves fucking you, who wouldn’t, but he’s gonna let go and knot you soon, just like you want. I bet he can’t even help but give you _exactly_ what you want. Me, I got him riled up earlier, but this is all you. Take a look at our boy, honey.”

Steve manages to crack his eyes open— he doesn’t even know when he closed them— and there’s Bucky, right above him, breathtakingly near and so gorgeous it almost hurts to look at him. His sweaty hair brushes Steve’s face every few seconds, a feather-light tease of sensation.

“Buck,” Steve says helplessly. He’s not sure what he’s asking for, or even whether he’s asking at all. Bucky shudders, dark lashes fluttering over glazed blue eyes.

“Yeah, doll,” he rasps, “yeah, Stevie, I’m right here. I’m so Goddamn close.”

Steve knows that, he can feel it in the way Bucky’s rhythm is faltering and his cock is twitching, he can feel it in the stretch of his hole as the swelling of Bucky’s knot starts. He shakes a little harder, grips Tony with one hand and the rumpled sheets with the other.

“That’s right,” murmurs Tony. “You got him right there inside you, giving it to you as best he can. He’s so good, isn’t he? I bet you only need to give him one good, hard squeeze and he’ll knot you right up. Let’s see what we can do about that, sweetheart.”

“God, _Tony_ , what are you—“ Bucky gasps.

Tony’s hand tracks down Steve’s body to stroke his cock, hard and leaking and totally ignored. He twists his fingers over the head and bites down on Steve’s nipple at the same moment, and it’s like Steve’s whole body erupts with sensation. He lights up with pleasure and clamps down hard on Bucky’s cock, and Bucky—

Well, Bucky never stood a chance. He manages one last hard thrust before he’s collapsing onto Steve, shaking with exertion and the overwhelming pleasure of knotting. His eyes are wide and sightless as he pants into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve is still coming down from his orgasm when he feels the knot expanding in him, starting to _really_ stretch him like nothing else can. It’s like falling on a springboard, coming down only to be catapulted up twice as high as he’d been before. His eyes roll back and his knees hold Bucky tight and there are half-voluntary whimpers coming from his throat. He’s vaguely aware of Tony’s fingers, pressed between their bodies, playing with the omega come and rubbing it into Bucky’s stomach. A sound between a whine and a growl escapes him.

It feels like forever before the knot stops swelling and Steve can start to come down for real. The tension in his muscles has dissipated entirely, leaving him soft as putty in his mates’ hands.

Well. Tony’s hands. Bucky’s still incoherent, muttering wet sounds into Steve’s throat as he comes and comes and comes.

The extended alpha orgasm is really something, but Steve thinks he prefers the perfect, slow feeling of being knotted for minutes on end, holding his mate close and guarding him while he’s limp and mindless in his pleasure.

“There we go,” Tony says, sounding satisfied. He withdraws his hand from between their bodies and starts sucking ejaculate from his own fingers, moaning at the taste. Steve leans over and opens his mouth to share. It _does_ taste good, not at all bitter like alpha come, but it’s probably better for Tony, who gets a hit of his mate’s strongest hormones with every suck. Steve leans in to lick it straight from Tony’s mouth, and he can _taste_ how turned on Tony is by the flavor.

Bucky whines a little as he catches sight of them, but he can’t form words yet, just clutches a little harder at Steve’s sides. Tony swipes a wet finger over Bucky’s open lips, leaving smears of come there. The reaction is instant; Bucky’s eyelids flutter and his tongue darts out and his cock jerks hard where it’s still knotted inside Steve. He whimpers helplessly.

Gently, Steve and Tony both run hands over Bucky’s shoulders and down his back, soothing him. Bucky shakes a little at first and then sighs and relaxes into it. His breathing is still unsteady, but it’s getting more even.

By the time Bucky’s knot starts to go down, Steve’s serum-enhanced body is tightening up again, ready for another round. He doesn’t _need_ more, and usually he’d just snuggle up to his mates and breathe them in until they could all fall asleep together, but tonight is for _him_ ; it’s his birthday and he’s allowed more— as much as he can take, even— and he’s not going to let that go to waste. So he breathes in, breathes out, loosens his muscles to help Bucky’s half-deflated knot withdraw, and tugs Tony in closer.

“Toldja,” is Bucky’s first slurred sentence. He’s recovered himself enough to slip off of Steve and onto the bed beside him, opposite Tony.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, pressing a kiss into his damp hair.

“I toldja, I got a way t’make up for not bein’ crazy rich,” he says. His accent is thick with lethargy, and Steve can feel him smiling into his chest. Steve gives a startled laugh and pets Bucky’s hair a little more.

“I love you so much, Buck, money or no money, sex or no sex,” Steve says seriously. Bucky turns his head to prop his chin on Steve’s chest and glare at him. “But the sex was spectacular,” Steve assures him.

“Ten out of ten, would tie again?” Tony says, leaning over to peck Bucky on the temple.

“ _Eleven_ ,” Steve says. “Now it’s your turn, genius. No way I’m letting my birthday end without tying with both of you.”

“I feel compelled to warn you that I probably won’t last long at all,” Tony says, clambering up to take the place between Steve’s legs. “The two of you together are about the most gorgeous thing in the galaxy, and I say that with authority.”

To this, Steve replies as he always does: “Orgasms are nice, ties are better.”

“I think you might be the only omega who feels that way,” Tony says as he presses into Steve, “Usually, it’s all _if you don’t make me come before you flop on me, I’ll_ — Oh, Steve, _God_. You’re so wet inside, you’re— holy fuck, that’s _you_ , Bucky, you made him so _slick_ …”

“Mm, yeah I did,” Bucky says, sounding very proud. “I’m thinkin’ those omegas were a, a, whatchacallit, self-selecting group. They jus’ wanted to get off and they figured that made them the kinda omega who ran with Tony Stark, an’ eventually the kinda omega who ran with Tony Stark was jus’ the ones who wanted to get off.”

Tony looks up from his deep contemplation of Steve’s dick, which is mostly soft but renewing its interest, in order to level a _look_ at Bucky. “Not that I don’t love a little science talk in bed, sugar, but I think I’m gonna have to make a rule,” he says breathlessly. “Hard sciences only.”

Steve frowns a little, or he would if he wasn’t loving the feeling of Tony inside him so much, but Bucky sniggers into his chest.

“Get it, Stevie? _Hard_ science?”

Steve smacks him playfully on the back of the head but laughs a little all the same. Tony’s elbows suddenly give out and he falls forward, gasping, until Bucky steadies him with a hand on his chest.

“Alright there?” Steve asks him, bringing his free hand up to the nape of Tony’s neck.

“Fine, fine, s’just the way you _move_ around me when you laugh, honey, it’s amazing.” Tony ducks down to kiss Steve, fervent and grateful. The change in angle does wonderful things to Steve’s insides, and he shoves down against Tony to encourage him. “Yeah, yeah I got it.”

This time, Steve is a lot more aware of the feeling of his mate inside him, now that he’s not overwhelmed or desperate. If he focuses, he can even feel the one thing that makes a tie from Tony different from anyone else on the planet— the arc reactor.

Normally the power output by the reactor is small, just enough to maintain stasis in Tony’s body, but when he gets going like this, the reactor compensates. It isn’t a lot, isn’t even enough to match the static shock of walking on a thick carpet, and Tony probably doesn’t know it happens. Steve’s skin is as enhanced as the rest of him, though, and his serum-sensitized nerves can pick up the slight tingle of power everywhere he and Tony touch. Deep inside him, where the nerves already feel raw and stripped from Bucky, every pass of Tony’s cockhead is enough to make him squirm.

“I really oughtta go second more often,” Tony gasps, looking down their bodies to the place where they join. “Is this how it feels when you do it, Bucky? It’s— it’s _incredible_.”

“Yeah, it is,” agrees Bucky, propping himself up on his metal elbow to kiss at the side of Tony’s neck. “He’s always hot inside, always gets so wet for us, but like this? When I know my mate has already fucked him and tied him and _come_ in him?”

Bucky sounds like he’s gearing up for something, and Steve can’t imagine closing his eyes for even a second, now. Not when he can see his alphas over him, one thrusting hard inside him and the other sucking enthusiastic bites. They’re both so good, and he loves them so much, and they’re _right there tying him_. He arches with Tony’s movements, trying to get him deeper.

“When I can feel your come on my cock inside him?” Bucky is saying, “It’s like you’re right there in him _with_ me, love.”

“Oh, hell, sugar, the _mouth_ on you,” Tony rasps. His mouth is open and wet and his knot is just starting to swell inside Steve and he’s _perfect_. “D-damn, Steve, I’m— I’m gonna—“

“C’mon,” Steve encourages, “c’mon, beloved, knot me, I want it. I want it, please.”

“ _Oh_.” For all the sounds he makes during sex, Tony’s orgasms are unexpectedly quiet, like they’ve surprised all the air out his lungs and he only has weak, overwhelmed gasps left to give. They are one of the best sounds Tony makes, and Steve has heard many.

Steve is still so sensitive inside that when Tony starts to knot in earnest he cries out and squeezes his eyes shut against the intensity. The racing of Tony’s heart just makes the feeling more electric, every nerve inside him coming alive just for his mate’s touch. The knot feels even bigger and hotter than it really is and the stretch is _so good_ —

Tony gives a whimper that sounds almost like pain when Steve clenches down on him, but Steve is helpless to stop the tremors in his muscles, trying to hold him ever closer to his mates.

Bucky strokes them both gently as they climax, kissing one and then the other and running his fingers through their hair. Steve calms and relaxes into Bucky’s fingers after only a few moments, and then adds his own effort to Bucky’s. With Bucky on his side like this, they have three hands between them to gentle the tension in Tony’s muscles, maneuvering him so that he can lie comfortably on Steve’s chest while they’re knotted.

Every now and then Steve gets distracted by the feeling of Tony’s come leaking slowly but steadily into him, and he shivers at the thought of how full he’s going to be once _both_ of them have emptied their knots inside him.

“How’re you doin’, Stevie?” asks Bucky, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He’s still got a hand on the small of Tony’s back, rubbing slow circles.

“I,” Steve says with conviction, “am _fantastic_.”

“And your hips? You’ve spent a long time spread real wide, doll.” Steve shifts a little to check, making Tony groan into his neck. He can feel the muscles burn faintly, but it’s lost under the sheer pleasure of the knot making space for itself inside him.

“Still fantastic,” he says. Bucky gives him a look like he knows it’s the tie talking, but he doesn’t call him out on it. And then—

“Do you think you’re gonna be done after this?” asks Bucky, and Steve’s whole brain just kind of freezes up. It hadn’t even _occurred_ to him that they might _not_ be done after two ties, and the idea of taking another knot when he’s like this, so fucked out but still wanting his mates so much—

“ _Can_ you go again?” he asks breathlessly.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a requirement for callin’ yourself a super soldier or something,” Bucky says, stroking his hand up Tony’s spine and back down to trace little circles.

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve says. He’s trying for exasperated, but it comes out more eager than anything. He’s never taken three knots in one night— most people can only manage _one_.

“I’m just gonna guess you want me again, doll.” Bucky sounds half smug and half honestly delighted, which is pretty much par for the course, with him. “Wanna give me a hand?”

Steve’s mind fuzzes out again as Tony’s cock jerks inside him, making both of them whimper. Tony’s mouth is wet and open against Steve’s shoulder, and he’s frowning like he would want to be part of the conversation if he could scrape together the brain cells to do it. It’s a good look on him, but then, almost everything is. It takes several seconds for Steve to remember that Bucky had asked him a question.

“Huh?” he asks intelligently.

“I said,” says Bucky lowly, each word dropping heavily like a stone, “you wanna get me hard so I can knot you up one more time?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Lemme— lemme suck you?”

“Sure, baby doll, if that’s what you want.” Bucky clambers up the bed, bringing his cock close to Steve’s open mouth and running the damp head tantalizingly over his lips. Lying on Steve’s chest, Tony musters the muscle control to tip his head over and watch. “Your mouth is so sweet, Stevie, you know that?”

“Mmm.” They both glance down at the wordless sound from Tony, whose lips are parted wide. He isn’t very coherent, but he manages a few words before the hazy look in his eyes drags him back under. “I… please…”

“You want my cock too, love? Shh, relax, here you go.” Bucky leans forward and guides just the head into Tony’s mouth. Immediately Tony’s lips close around it and he suckles, breathing hard through his nose. From the movement in his throat Steve can tell that Tony is trying gracelessly to suck him deeper and stroke him with his tongue. “You’re so good at that, even when you’re out of your mind knotted,” Bucky praises, sounding jealous. Tony moans helplessly.

“He loves it so much, Buck, I can feel him twitching inside me,” Steve tells him, awed.

“Yeah,” breathes Bucky. He strokes Tony’s jaw soothingly. “Yeah, okay. Okay, genius, Steve gets a turn too. You did great, sweetheart.”

Tony makes a disappointed sound as Bucky pulls away, so Steve clenches down on him to distract him for a second. He wants this to be perfect for his mate, too.

This time when Bucky brings his half-hard cock to Steve’s lips, Steve immediately surges forward, taking as much into his mouth as he can. Arousal is nebulous for him, when he’s not actively building up to a tie, but he knows he wants Bucky in his mouth, as soon and as much as he can get him.

Traces of come from both Tony and Bucky linger on the smooth, delicate skin of Bucky’s cock, and Steve licks it up eagerly. It doesn’t taste as good as his own ejaculate, but the taste becomes almost irrelevant once the overpowering taste of his mates’ arousal hits his system. He tries to suck Bucky deeper, to get him into his throat, but Bucky won’t let him yet. He just thrusts slowly and shallowly into Steve’s mouth and runs his cockhead over the ridges of Steve’s palate. Steve presses his tongue hard against the underside of Bucky’s cock and hums.

“Oh, Stevie,” Bucky gasps. “Alright, I get it, you’re impatient. ‘Scuse me for bein’ nice and makin’ sure you don’t choke.”

Steve raises his eyebrows and does his best to glare at him with his mouth full. Bucky laughs breathlessly and brings his metal hand to cradle the back of Steve’s head. Once he starts _really_ trying, going a little deeper in Steve’s mouth each time, Steve relaxes into his grip and just lets Bucky move.

“Mm, you like that too, huh, doll? Our Tony just _adores_ a nice hard cock in his mouth, but you do more than that, don’t you?” Bucky’s talking as much for his own benefit as his is for his mates’, but he’s definitely right. His cock gets a little harder with every thrust, and Steve can’t help but _whine_ into the taste and the weight of it and the stretch of his wide-open jaw. “You love to be stuffed full _everywhere_ , don’t you, Stevie?”

Steve moans an ardent affirmative. Either teasing or testing, Bucky taps his cockhead at the back of Steve’s mouth, and Steve opens his throat as much as he can to encourage him. The eager smile on Bucky’s lips says clearly, _you’re even better than I hoped_ , like he’s still excited by Steve’s enthusiasm even after so much time together.

In his periphery, Steve can see Tony looking at them with hot, jealous eyes, throat working like he’s searching for words and tongue licking compulsively at his lips. Steve cuddles him closer affectionately.

“You sure you wanna wait, Steve? I could just come for you right here, right now.” Bucky’s voice drops even lower as he leans over Steve. “You want that, baby? My come in your belly, my cock in your throat, my _knot_ in your mouth—“

Before Steve can even groan at the image Bucky paints— Steve has particularly fond memories of not even needing to swallow Bucky’s hot come as it slips down his throat— Tony interrupts them both. His hips shove into Steve sudden and hard as he tries to get higher up Steve’s body, tongue licking desperately at Bucky’s cock where it disappears into Steve’s mouth. His muscles are twitching like he’s been electrocuted and his knot is swelling _more_ , if that’s even possible, and Steve groans and leans into his mouth.

Bucky moves with them, pulling out just enough to let Tony get his mouth on his shaft. He isn’t just _hard_ ; his knot is starting to inflate. He’ll knot up in less than a minute if he gets inside Steve now.

“I’m guessing you like that idea, love,” Bucky says, tugging at Tony’s hair and making him moan. Tony’s tongue is still running over the seam between Steve’s lips and Bucky’s cock, and it makes Steve shiver. God, the way Tony _reacted_ … if it weren’t impossible, Steve would’ve said Tony had come _again_ , just at the thought of knotting in Steve’s mouth.

Maybe that’s something to explore later.

“I, ah, I—“ Tony seems so torn, trying to keep his mouth in place and lean into Bucky’s hand and say something, and all the while fighting the all-consuming feeling of his knot, still huge and swollen inside Steve. His movements are stuttering and frantic, and his eyes are full of _something_ Steve can’t figure out.

Steve taps at Bucky’s hip and Bucky withdraws, sitting back on his heels and trying to calm himself down.

“Tony?” Steve says, worried. “I need to know that you’re okay, beloved. Can you look at me?”

It takes several moments, but Tony’s eyes do meet his, finally. His irises are barely visible and he’s trembling all over. _Overstimulation_ , Steve thinks. He was probably starting to come down when Bucky surprised him with— one of his kinks, maybe? In any case, Tony’s body clearly wasn’t ready for it. Steve spreads his legs even wider, far enough that it’s a problem for even his muscles, and relaxes his hole as much as he can to take pressure off of Tony.

Bucky sees what he’s doing and knee-walks over, reaching around Tony and pressing hard on Steve’s thighs. The stretch is painful, but not too bad. A moment later Tony sighs with relief and his tremors start to calm. It’s only when Tony’s fingers release that Steve realizes he’d had a deathgrip on the sheets a second ago.

“Hey, Tony, you alright now?” Steve asks. His hands are still running carefully over Tony’s body, keeping him grounded but hopefully not stimulating him too much.

“Y-yeah,” says Tony unsteadily. He’s coming down fast because of the shock and pain of overstimulation, but aside from his rapidly loosening knot he seems fine. “’S a lot.”

“Mm, I’ll bet. You were so great though, Tony, I loved it. Love you.” Carefully, Steve helps him ease out. There’s a rush of his mates’ come when Steve is finally empty, but he ignores it. This is more important.

Once they get Tony off to the side, lying on clean sheets, Bucky lets up his grip on Steve’s thighs. Steve grunts at the sudden discomfort when he tries to close his legs, but Bucky helps him there too. It takes some shifting and maneuvering, but eventually Bucky gets Steve curled up on his side, facing Tony, and then he starts to clean up the mess they’ve made, on the bed and on themselves. The pillow from under Steve’s hips, for one, is a total loss.

Steve ignores the cleanup in favor of looking after his slowly recovering mate. Tony curls into him and Steve tangles their legs together, muttering sweet nonsense all the while.

It seems to be working; Tony seems more exhausted than anything else at this point.

Bucky, finished cleaning, curls up at Steve’s back and rests his flesh arm over him. Tony’s fingers tangle with his on Steve’s stomach, and then Steve covers theirs with his own. It’s kind of perfect, he thinks.

“You still gonna knot me, Buck?” asks Steve. He’s pretty tired now, but a nice, long tie sounds like the perfect send-off. And Bucky’ll like it too, Steve can feel the half-inflated knot where it’s pressed up against his rear.

“D’you still want that? I know we got kinda… derailed,” Bucky cages.

“Sorry,” says Tony, and they both shush him and pull him closer. He’s not _allowed_ to blame things like this on himself, no matter how much he always wants to.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says. “It’ll be nice and sweet, and then we’ll all sleep better.”

“If you’re sure,” Bucky says.

“Last I checked it was still my birthday,” Steve reminds him. So what if the last time he checked was in the car, it’s _probably_ still his birthday. That’s got to be good enough.

“Well, I _suppose_ ,” Bucky says, regaining his humor. “I _guess_ , if you _really_ want me to. I could probably put up with an extended orgasm and fifteen-minute tie with my gorgeous mate. If I _have_ to.”

“You have to,” Steve says imperiously, and Tony snorts into his shoulder. Well, mission accomplished. “Snap to, soldier.”

Tony’s giggles are even worse then, but he quells them in order to kiss Steve through the initial penetration. It’s harder now because Bucky’s so swollen already, but once he’s in, he’s _in_. It only takes a handful of thrusts for Bucky to bite down on Steve’s shoulder to muffle the whimper as he knots.

Tony’s clever tongue is sloppy with lassitude, and Steve’s muscles are going the same way. Bucky is already limp and pliable against his back, slowly and sleepily filling him up with still more come.

Steve holds them both close, and they drift off together.


End file.
